


In Crimson it Began

by Taovi



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21865888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taovi/pseuds/Taovi
Summary: Ala Mhigo has declared war on Sharlayan, pitting the two nations against each other in a battle of freedom against tyranny.Two young soldiers stand on opposing sides, unaware that their actions will change the course of their lives.
Relationships: Lyse Hext/Y'shtola Rhul
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Rhalgr's Reach, a training ground for monks old and new, was never quiet. Be it sparring sessions or intense training regimens, the temple grounds was always lively, even into the deep hours of the night.

Tonight was no exception.

On the palm of the Destroyer fought two young and talented monks. Every connection of their hits sounded like a lightning strike sent by Rhalgr himself with dangerous vibrations accompanying each attack. The newer monks listened in awe, amazed by the sheer strength of the two fighters. Meanwhile, the older monks simply shook their heads, knowing they will regret their match the next day for even though it was considered a “friendly” sparring session, Theodred and Lyse were always out for blood when it came to each other.

Theodred, the nephew of King Theodoric, was considered Ala Mhigo's finest monk, having mastered the physical, mental, and spiritual aspects of the art all while unlocking multiple paths of chakra. Lyse Hext, though brash, was equally as skilled, living up to her name as the daughter of the famed Curtis Hext, a senior general of the royal household as well as their strongest.

Having served the royal household, it comes as no surprise for Lyse and Theodred to be as familiar as they are with one another. While other children feared befriending the young Prince due to his lineage, the blonde paid no mind to that, immediately seizing him as her playmate.

Eventually, the vibrations simmered down, signaling an end to their sparring session with Theodred declared the winner.

“That makes it 51-47 now, does it not?” The monk panted, collapsing to the ground in exhaustion.

Lyse, who was already sprawled out across Rhalgr's palm, retorted. “Shut your Princely ass. I'll catch up soon enough.”

While using such terms with royalty would result in severe punishments, it was excused for the General's daughter on behalf of Theodred himself. In fact, he called them terms of endearment, much to Lyse's confusion, for it made him forget on occasion that he was royalty. Unlike his uncle, he did not enjoy basking in his wealth and riches, rather preferring to spend his time training and meditating to hone his skills. Theodred opted to live a more humble life as compared to the rest of his family, and found it a burden to be treated so regally. Having Lyse around to treat him like a normal Hyur was akin to a breath of fresh air.

“You are too rash. That leaves openings.” The Prince explained to his friend.

“Lecturing me now, are you?” She groaned. Lyse was far too tired to listen to him go into detail about how she could fix her form.

“I simply wish to help.”

“Save the lecture. I'm sure Master Widargelt will have some words for me tomorrow anyways.”

Theodred let out a chuckle, gazing at the night sky above them. “It's beautiful tonight, isn't it?”

He awaited a response only to be met by silence, save for the light sounds of metal clanging below them in the Reach. He looked over to his sparring partner, assuming that she must have passed out from exhaustion. However, her blue eyes, striking even in the dark of the night, were wide open, staring at the stars above their heads.

“Theodred...” She started after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Why is your uncle starting this war?” The usually loud and boisterous voice was now nothing but a mere whisper.

Theodred grimaced at her question, hesitating before giving her his answer. “I wish I knew as well. Uncle has been acting very...strange as of lately. I do not know what is going through his mind.”

“Can't you ask him?”

“He has been punishing those who question his motives, be it servants or kin. I would be no exception.”

The Prince once again glanced over at Lyse who was uncharacteristically quiet. The announcement of the war had affected everyone, and reception among the public was not well-received. Many were outspoken in the declaration, questioning why Theodoric would not rather focus the military might against the impending threat of the Garlean forces at their border. Why attack a nation that has remained neutral throughout its entire history, let alone be located malms and malms away?

“Are you worried?” He asks. Despite her outgoing nature, Lyse is prone to keeping her struggles to herself. Perhaps this is weighing more on her mind than what she lets off.

Sensing that Theodred noticed her anxiety, she immediately scoffs it off. “Yeah right, as if those stuffy Sharlayans could hold a match to us!”

“We may have the upper hand in military might and martial prowess. However, do not underestimate their magicks or strategem. They are a nation of scholars after all.”

“They'll be face first in the ground before they can even cast their silly spells,” she retorts, earning another chuckle from him. This is more like the Lyse he knows. Hot-headed and prideful.

Yet when he looks at her, dread is writ all over her face.

\---

A weathered man of sixty-one summers, Curtis Hext has seen many things in his day. Theodemir was a fair King, focusing his efforts on healing his nation from the disastrous Autumn War, resulting in a surge of economical growth as well as national happiness. He was a man truly worth to be served. His successor, on the other hand, is not.

Theodoric was vain and arrogant, keeping his wealth to himself and leading his people to suffer. Lèse-majesté was at an all time high, and even the slightest discord against him would result in imprisonment or even execution. While the punishments were limited to royals and officials, Curtis feared his madness would soon trickle down to the commonfolk of Ala Mhigo.

Illuminated by the light of the moon, he follows the barren path leading to his humble abode, feeling the weight of his country on his shoulders. The declaration of war was most unexpected to say the least, especially when another potential war was practically knocking at their door. If it were in his will, he would've left the employ of the royal household many moons ago since Theodoric took the throne. The only reason he has chosen to stay is to honor King Theodemir's memory, to keep in check Theodoric's increasingly tyrannical reign, and to protect his beloved daughters lest anything were to happen.

“So we're really going to war, are we?” A voice breaks the silence of his home as soon as he enters. He looks up to see his oldest daughter sitting at the dining table, sipping on what smells like cactus tea.

“Why are you still up?” Curtis questions her, removing his armor and weapon.

“Waiting for Lyse to return.”

“She's not home yet?”

“She's out sparring with Theodred. Care for some tea?” Yda pours him a cup and hands it over. He joins her at the table, blowing softly on the hot beverage before bringing it to his lips.

“Rather than focus our military on the Garleans, Theodoric instead decides to go after Sharlayan, and for what reason?” He sighs, rubbing his temples. “He grows more and more erratic by the day.”

“Aren't there any who oppose his decision?”

“Those who opposed are now imprisoned. Even more worrisome, those imprisoned have died under mysterious circumstances.”

“Are you saying Theodoric is murdering his own men?” 

“While I have no concrete evidence, I am inclined to believe so.”

“...so what do we do now?”

Curtis hesitated for a moment before responding solemnly. “At the moment, we have no choice to but follow his orders. For the sake of survival.”

Yda remains silent. She felt helpless seeing her father under immense stress, unwillingly following the King's orders to save his people from his wrath.

“It's cold tonight,” she finally speaks up.

“Indeed it is.”

\---

It had been ten years since she last stepped foot in her hometown of Sharlayan. While the surroundings remained largely the same to Y'shtola, save for a few new buildings, she noticed the aura encompassing the city was quite different. Scholars still lined the streets, but instead of talking about the latest discoveries regarding aetherial research, their discussions seemed rather frantic. Being a miqo'te, her ears are receptive to what other races cannot easily pick up on. However, multiple conversations made it difficult for her to focus in on one, with the only words she can pick out from these conversations being 'war' and 'Ala Mhigo'.

She soon reaches the border of the city, continuing her descent to the cave of her former master. Upon her arrival, she uses her magic, moving the boulder standing in her way.

“Don't you know it's rude to enter without knocking? Hmph, the youth of today. No manners at all.”

“Though I neglected to knock, I did create something of a commotion. I had hoped that would suffice.”

“Heavy-handed as ever I see. And still not a hint of grace. Some things never change.”

“To give credit where credit is due—I learned from the best,” she replied, smiling warmly. “It has been too long, Master Matoya.”

She returned her protégé's smile. “Indeed it has. It's good to see you again, my girl.”

Upon leaving her master's apprenticeship, the Archon opted to travel the realm of Eorzea as one of the members of Louisoix's Circle of Knowing. During that time, she expanded her knowledge of conjury and aetherology, so much so that it would maybe make even a crotchety woman like Matoya proud. Maybe.

“I presume there is something which you require of me? Otherwise, you would not have summoned me in haste.”

Matoya let out a sigh. “Have you heard the news?”

“I have noticed the Sharlayans gossiping of recent events when I arrived, though I was unable to discern their discussions. Pray tell, what is worrying our city so?”

“The Ala Mhigans have declared war on us,” her master hissed in irritation. “Such savages they are! After the Autumn War, you would think they would learn to keep to themselves. Instead, they break the peace treaty for their own selfish purposes. What would they need Sharlayan for anyways? I highly doubt those brutes would be interested in being scholars!”

Y'shtola could not help but feel her stomach sink. She had seen the aftermath of wars and the calamity through her travels and the horrors it beheld. To have her home directly involved with one was terrifying, to say the least.

“Are we not opposed to war? Have we not tried to reach a compromise?”

“Any compromise suggested has all been denied by their king.”

“What has the Forum decided?”

“Louisoix's boy has decided they shall retreat to Old Sharlayan.”

“And simply give up our lands to the Ala Mhigans? Then everything we have built will be for naught?”

“Hold your tongue, girl. I haven't even finished speaking. Goodness, the gall of you young'ins.”

The miqo'te clicked her tongue. “Continue.”

“Upon his announcement, Alphinaud, Louisoix's grandson, opposed his decision, claiming that the threat of Ala Mhigo was not only a danger to Sharlayan, but to Eorzea as well. In order to safeguard Eorzea's future, he has decided to lead the defense.”

“Opposing his father, is he? Has any other answered his call to arms?”

“His twin has, as well as the remaining members of the Circle. Heh, those babes remind me too much of him. That stubborn bugger,” she chuckled, reminiscing fondly on her memories of her archrival. “What of you? Will you answer the call?”

Y'shtola thought for a moment before responding. “If the fate of not only Sharlayan but Eorzea depend on this war, then I too shall join the battle.”

Matoya smiled at her former student. It seems her spirit is still as fiery as ever. “I expected no less from you, though I shall warn you now that the Ala Mhigans are not to be looked down upon. Uneducated those brutes may be, but they do boast the strongest military might. It's best you tread carefully when attacking your foe.”

“Understood. I shall make sure that you see to your grave before I do.”

“Ha! You impudent child! One day, that pertness is going to cost you your tail, my girl.”

\---

“It will take some time before the battle occurs. Until then, we must forge alliances with the other city-states and recruit as many...Y'shtola?” Papalymo drifted off, surprised by his unexpected guest.

“I am glad to see you doing well Papalymo, Urianger, Moenbryda.”

“Y'shtola?” The young elezen at the head of the table repeated.

“A member of your grandfather's Circle of Knowing, and an expert in the field of aetherial magicks.”

“I see. I am Alphinaud, Louisoix's grandson. It is an honor to meet you, Mistress Y'shtola.”

“Please, Y'shtola shall suffice. An honor to meet you as well, Alphinaud.”

“What brings you back to Sharlayan?” Papalymo asks.

“Master Matoya had summoned me in regards to the latest tidings.”

“So you've heard...”

“I've also heard that the Circle has defied the Forum's order to retreat, and wish to stand against our adversaries, no?”

“It is what Master Louisoix would have wanted,” the lalafell started, lamenting on his master's untimely death. “He would not stand idly by while the safety of the people are jeopardized.”

“Nor shall I.”

Her response took her fellow Archons by surprise. “Y'shtola! You...”

“Master Louisoix sacrificed his life to ensure our survival from the calamity. I shall not allow for his sacrifice to be in vain.”

Papalymo smiled, grateful that his fellow Archon would join them in carrying out Louisoix's wish of defending the realm. “My thanks, Y'shtola.”

While her facade remained ever calm and stoic, her mind and heart were filled with anxiety. Her entire life, she dedicated herself to aetherial research and knows nothing of war besides the torment it brings. Sharlayan itself has no military, and yet here they are battling against the strongest military might of Eorzea. Having earned her rank as an Archon, she was more than skilled in her usage of magicks, but would that be enough to withhold against the brute force of the Ala Mhigans?

She prayed her promise to Matoya was one she could keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of writing fluff for Lyshtola...this idea came up instead, and I had to write it. This will be an ambitious project for me since I don't like writing anything too long or drawn out, so please bear with me lol.
> 
> Another note, the Widargelt I mentioned in this chapter is an OC. Theodred is the actual Widargelt that we all know and love, and he and Lyse are best bros.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a week since Ala Mhigo declared war on Sharlayan, a week gone far too quickly for their liking. The Sharlayans barely had a moment's respite with the ongoing preparations and recruitment, and their failure to ally with the other nations added to their chaos. Their call to arms was met with more success, but their numbers were still concerning regardless.

“Ishgard is currently recovering from their conflict with the Dragonsong War, whereas the Gridanians have refused due to fear of upsetting the Elementals,” Papalymo delivered his report grimly.

“As expected...” Alphinaud sighed. “Thancred, what of Limsa and Ul'dah?”

“Both nations are troubled with beast tribes at the moment. Word has it that the Amal'jaa and the Kobolds are preparing to summon their respective primals. Therefore, they have decided to focus their military on preventing another summoning.”

“Ugh, of all times to summon a primal,” Alisaie groaned.

“Tis terrible timing indeed. Between wars and primals...Ala Mhigo could not have chosen a better time to strike. They truly are not to be underestimated…”

“Do not falter, Alphinaud,” Papalymo reassured the young elezen. “We may lack in numbers but strategies can efficiently turn the tide of the battle. Speaking of, any updates on recruits, Moenbryda?”

“Yes. Along with the general recruits, the Students of Baldesion as well as the Sons of Saint Coinach have agreed to lend their aid to our cause.”

Upon hearing her fellow Archon's report, Y’shtola’s ears perked up and her tail swung inadvertently. If the Sons of Saint Coinach have joined the fray, does that mean Y'mhitra has joined as well? While her sister was a gifted scholar in her own right, she could not help but worry over the dangers she will now face. Perhaps she should confirm this with Y'mhitra herself...

They were dismissed shortly after, and Y’shtola wasted no time in leaving. Intending to arrive before sunset, she made haste to her clan’s grounds and managed to reach the city's borders when she was suddenly interrupted by a voice she’d much rather ignore.

“Milady, leaving so soon?” Thancred suavely asks, much to the ire of Y'shtola.

“Seeing as I have much more critical issues to concern myself with, yes,” she states matter-of-factly.

“You wound me, milady. Are you so busy as to not spare me time for a drink?”

“You should know by now that spirits are not my choice of drink.”

“Come now, it doesn’t hurt to indulge while the night is still young,” he responds rather slyly.

The miqo’te glares daggers at the provocative hyur. “You are incorrigible.”

“I’ll have you know that many a lady would kill to spend a night by my side!”

“Is that so?”

“Thancred!” As if on queue, a woman sweetly calls out to him and hooks onto his arm, relieving Y’shtola of her duty to entertain her comrade.

“I suppose your lady friend here shall keep your company for the night. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to,” she smirks, leaving Thancred alone with the woman before he has a chance to protest.

Finally, she arrives at her tribe's grounds, noticing that it was much quieter than usual. In fact, she would have assumed that the others had already packed up and left were it not for the light shining from the house. It had been quite some time since she last seen her family so she hesitatingly reaches for the door knob, taking in a deep breath before entering. How much has changed since she underwent the tutelage of Matoya, and how much has changed since she departed Sharlayan? More importantly, how long will she be reprimanded for for not coming to visit sooner?

As the door slowly opens, everyone gasps at the sight of their unexpected guest. "Shtola?" Y'rhul Nunh speaks up, surprised to see his daughter return after so many summers.

"Father, everyone...it is good seeing you all again," she addresses her family. To her relief, Y'mhitra is also in attendance.

"...indeed it has. Welcome home, my child.”

“Tis good to be home...how fares the clan?”

“With the declaration of war, it seems we are busier than ever,” her sire answers wearily.

“I presume you will be relocating back to Old Sharlayan with the rest of the inhabitants?”

“That is the plan. However, Mhitra will not be joining us for she has decided to serve in the war. Will you be joining us Shtola, or are you of the same mind as your sister?”

“I believe you already know the answer to that, Father,” she responds, glancing over at Y'mhitra.

“I suppose I cannot change your mind, can I?” The Nunh shook his head. “As expected of you. If you wish to dedicate yourselves to this cause, I ask but one favor of you both, and that is for you two to watch after one another. I would like to see my daughters back in one piece after all this is over.”

The sisters looked at each other before nodding, promising by their father’s words.

“Shtola, will you join us for dinner? It has been quite some time since we’ve all gathered as a family,” her mother asked.

“Gladly,” she smiled, happy to be surrounded by her tribe once more and rather delighted to have her mother’s home cooking again. Perhaps, she should visit more often.

After dinner, Y'mhitra excused herself to the outdoors. Her decision to fight weighed heavy on her mind. She was no warrior, bereft of the fighting experience her elder sister acquired fighting off beast tribes. She was merely an archaeologist, studying Allagan ruins and the summoning arts. Why, then, did she agree to fight? The young miqo’te gazed up at the stars in the darkening sky, looking to the heavens for an answer. She sighed, allowing herself to relish in the brisk of the night, engulfing in its calmness before the chaos inevitably takes over.

“Star gazing again, Sister?” Y’shtola’s voice snaps her back to reality.

“Come join, Shtola. It has been quite some time since we last watched the stars together.” Star gazing had been their favorite pastime as children. She remembers laying under the night sky with her sister, naming as many constellations as they could, oftentimes falling asleep in the midst of it all. On the other hand, she also remembers her sister retreating into the night whenever she were stressed or anxious, finding solace in the stars above. Tonight seems to be the latter.

As Y'shtola took her place next to Y'mhitra, she could not help but indulge in her curiosity. “Mhitra...why?”

Her sister sighed. “I can ask the same for you. Why did you decide to join the war?”

She paused for a moment, thinking of how to respond. “Eorzea...is a land full of beauty and mysteries, of different cultures, traditions, and ideas. And yet, there is still so much more that we do not know about this world. What of Othard, or Ilsabard, or Meracydia? I fear with this oncoming war, the land and its histories will be destroyed were the Ala Mhigans to succeed in their invasion. Besides, who is to say they will stop at Sharlayan, let alone Eorzea? What if their ambitions reach higher?”

"Reminiscent of the Allagan Empire..." Y'mhitra whispers, feeling a chill down her spine.

"Precisely," she responds. "That is why I cannot idly stand by and watch as our realm plummets into chaos. Master Louisoix entrusted Eorzea's future to us. It would be a true shame if all was lost due to our negligence."

“Eorzea...is indeed beautiful," the younger Rhul answered, feeling her sister's words ignite inspiration in her. "When I heard of your tales, I could not help but feel excitement at the wonders of an unknown land. It is what prompted me to join the Sons of Saint Coinach, and for me to make the move to Gridania. There is still so much more left to uncover in this world, so many peoples and history to protect. Perhaps, that is why...”

Y'mhitra trailed off, and Y'shtola did not pry. The two did not say another word to each other, letting the calm of the night overtake their conversation. Despite the revelation however, Y'mhitra still could not shake off an unsettling feeling and so broke the silence, gloomily questioning her sister.

“Shtola...what do you think of all this?”

“Pardon?”

“Do we even have a fighting chance against the Ala Mhigans, or are we marching straight to our deaths?”

The miqo'te winced at her question for she shared the same sentiments as Y’mhitra. As she looked at her sister, she immediately noticed the fear emanating from her eyes. She was afraid as well, but she couldn’t allow that to overtake her. The fate of Eorzea now rests in their hands as they are the first line of defense against the invasion.

“Are you worried? It is not too late to back out, Mhitra.”

“Of course I am worried...but it would be crass of me to ignore the realm's plight. Though not as skilled as you in battle, I am able-bodied enough to defend against our aggressors. It would be remiss of me to stand idly by and watch Sharlayan or Eorzea fall.” Despite the boldness in her voice, her trembling hands contradict her resolve.

Reassuringly, Y’shtola places her hand over her sister’s. “You are strong, Mhitra. Should you ever doubt yourself, do not hesitate to lean on me. I promise I will always be there in your time of need.”

“Shtola..." she smiled at her, feeling the tight grip of anxiety on her heart loosen with Y'shtola's support.  The two sat in companionable silence, enjoying the peace and quiet of the night before it would become just another memory.

\---

To those at Rhalgr's Reach, seeing Theodred lecture Lyse was nothing new. However, today was her final day in Gyr Abania before she left for war, and seeing how Theodred would not be joining the front, he made it a point to advise his friend as much as he could, no matter how irritated she may get.

“Try not to get yourself killed out there, Lyse.”

“I’m glad you’re concerned I’m going to get myself killed,” she scoffed. “Besides, don’t you think you’re underestimating me? You know fully well what I’m capable of.”

“I know you are a very strong and skilled fighter. However, I’m worried you will injure yourself by rushing head first into battle,” Theodred rebutted.

“And what makes you think that?” She glared, feeling slightly insulted.

“Because you always rush head first into our sparring sessions and oftentimes lose.” M’naago, who accompanied Lyse, broke out in a giggling fit, quickly trying to contain her laughter before angering the blonde even further.

“I’m only three losses behind you!”

“Four,” the Prince corrected her, smiling to her displeasure.

“Same difference,” she retorted in annoyance. “Besides, it’s gonna take a lot more than their silly magic to kill me. What are they going to do? Blow wind in my face?”

Theodred sighed and shook his head, knowing how stubborn, and occasionally arrogant, the young monk can be. He looked over to M’naago with pleading eyes. “Please take care of her.”

“I will try my best, Your Highness,” she responded, bowing to the Prince.

“Oh, come on! Not you too, Naago!”

“Everyone knows how reckless you are, you knucklehead! The least you can do is heed their advice,” the older Hext arrived, castigating her sister.

“Great. Is this the day everyone lectures me?”

“We wouldn’t lecture you if you just listened.”

“I am listening! I just think you guys underestimate me too much.”

“We’ll stop underestimating you when you beat me and Prince Theodred’s win-loss record,” Yda grinned while Naago stifled yet another laugh. Meanwhile, Theodred attempted to hide the smirk threatening to appear on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh away. We’ll see who’s laughing once I beat both your records.” 

“I’d like to see you try, punk,” she teased, putting her baby sister in a headlock.

“What? Hey! Yda! Get off me!” She yelled in irritation, her face now reddening in embarrassment.

Theodred and M’naago could not help but be amused at the siblings fighting. It was as if they were in their own world, ignorant to the reality currently surrounding them. The Prince and the miqo’te were completely forgotten, and General Hext, who had just turned the corner, was entirely disregarded. While Theodred and M’naago straightened up for Curtis, Curtis simply watched his two daughters for a short while before clearing his throat, finally catching their attention.

“I do hope you two don’t kill each other before the fighting even starts.”

“Father!” Both girls exclaimed in a panic. Yda released her hold on Lyse and they both shuffled awkwardly, also straightening their posture.

“Your Highness, M’naago. If you both don’t mind.”

“Yes, Sir. Yda, Lyse, I’ll get our griffins prepared,” M’naago informed the Hext sisters before returning to her duty.

“May I ask to depart some words with Lyse, General?”

“Of course, your Highness. There is no need for you to ask my permission.”

“My thanks.” Theodred pulled Lyse over to the side, speaking solemnly. 

“I know you are a very strong fighter, Lyse. In no way am I underestimating your skill whatsoever. I am more than certain you can hold your own against the Sharlayans, but I simply want you to be careful. You are my closest friend. I don’t want to lose you or anyone else...” he choked on his words, fighting to get his message across. Lyse was never the sentimental type, and he was sure that this speech was more than enough to make her cringe. However, she needed to hear it.

Realizing the seriousness of his words, she did not counter with a witty statement. Rather, she smiled earnestly, trying to ease the Prince’s worries. “I told you, I won’t die that easily. I know I can be rash, but this isn’t one of our fights, this is a war. My life is on the line now instead of my pride.”

Although it worked, Theodred chuckled at her poor attempt at a joke. “Promise me you will return to Ala Mhigo with your body and spirit in tact.”

“I promise,” she fixed him a determined glare, surprising him with its intensity, yet also reassuring him that she took his words to heart.

“Godspeed, Lieutenant Hext. Show the stuffy Sharlayans how we Ala Mhigans fight,” he smiled.

“As if you need to tell me,” she answered confidently, returning his smile as he walked away. After he had left, she turned to walk back to her father and sister, only to see her father staring at her intently.

“Uh...Dad, before you get the wrong idea, I can explain. Yda started it.”

“What? I did not! I was simply telling you to listen to the Prince’s advice and be careful!” The older Hext defended herself.

“I was listening! You didn’t have to be fresh and challenge me to beat your record,” she grumbled, accusing her sister.

“Excuse me, who’s being fresh?” The two began to bicker once again, completely forgetting that their father was still standing there, shaking his head once more. How he managed to raise his two wayward daughters on his own, he will never know.

“Girls!”

The bickering immediately stopped, followed by the two straightening their posture once again although this time, their heads hung low.

"Are you two done?"

"Yes..." both daughters answered cautiously.

Curtis sighed before resuming his speech. “With the war upon us, I wanted to request for you two to watch over one another.”

His daughters looked at each other before returning their gaze to Curtis. “As Commander of this campaign, I unfortunately will not have time to keep an eye on you two. There will be many urgent matters that will call for my attention, and it is highly probable that we may not see each other for days. That’s why I want you two to watch over one another, and to support each other in times of need.”

“Of course we will, Father,” Yda responded, Lyse nodding along.

The elder Hext looked fondly at his daughters, reminiscing on when they were still but babes in his arms. Though eccentric and unpredictable, they have grown into fine young women since then…

Curtis placed his hands on their shoulders. “You two have become wonderful adults, and I am proud of you both. I know your mother is proud of you both as well.”

“Father…” Yda gasped, surprised at the sudden mention of their late mother. 

It was not as if Curtis didn't speak much of her. Rather, he would often tell them tales of Keilah, keeping her memory alive by reminding their girls how strong and courageous she was. If she were still living, Curtis had no doubt she would be delighted to see their daughters grow into brave and resilient young women.  This may be the last chance of peace the Hext family will have for the time being, so it was only befitting that both parents express pride in their children, even if it was only on her behalf.

He smiled lovingly at Yda and Lyse, pulling them into a tight embrace. “I love you two very much, don’t ever forget that. Don’t ever forget that we are family.”

“Dad...are you alright?” Lyse questioned, uncertain on how to feel with her father’s sudden sentimentality. She glanced over at her sister for guidance, but Yda seemed equally nonplussed by his actions.

“I simply want to let you know while we still have this moment together.”

“First Theodred, and now you?” She continued, pulling back from his hold. “You guys talk as if this war is going to tear us apart.”

“As much as I want to believe that it won’t, war is unpredictable, my dear,” he sighed heavily, feeling the weight of his words. “Good or bad, we’ll never truly know what’s going to happen.”

“Nothing’s going to happen!” Lyse exclaimed. “We’re going to get out of this war together! You two promise me that!”

Looking at his youngest daughter, he could not help but be reminded of his late wife. With such conviction and a fiery soul to match, she was starting to resemble Keilah more and more by the day. Keilah had always been his source of strength even long after her death, and to see her spirit live on through their daughters filled him with joy.

Curtis couldn’t help but chuckle as Yda and Lyse stared at him, anticipating his next move. He stepped back, saluting his daughters before stating his pledge.

“General’s promise.”


	3. Chapter 3

_“A storm of blood approaches fast,_  
_Hells open, heavens weep._  
_For no one soul doth lie beyond,_  
_The measure of His Reach.”_

“A storm of blood...is it finally upon us?” Curtis stands pensively in Ala Mhigo’s square as he ponders the meaning of Bloodstorm. He stares at the Royal Palace, lost in thought, questioning once again the necessity of this useless war. Alas, it would heed no result besides thinking in circles.

The weathered man sighed, praying to Ala Mhigo’s guardian deity. “May Rhalgr grant us strength to overcome our enemies and protect our loved ones.”

The sun was beginning to set over the great city, dyeing the sky a crimson red with peaks of violet slowly starting to break through. The evening brought a cool, gentle breeze, dispatching the dry, hot air Gyr Abania was known for. The masses that retreated during the midday sun had returned, bringing the bustling streets back to life for more reasons than one.

Inventory was being checked, griffins and chocobos were being handled and prepared for the long flight, and soldiers were saying their long goodbyes to their family, uncertain if they will ever return from the war. Children stared at the warriors in awe, joining the adults in cheering them on one last time before they departed.

Away from the crowd, Yda mounted her griffin, shaking in anticipation. She was a bundle of nerves, anxiety building in the depths of her heart and dark thoughts intruding her head. She could not help but worry, allowing her mind to play devil’s advocate and plaguing it with undesirable scenarios.

What if they were underestimating the Sharlayans? What if they were mightier than they had expected? What if her father or Lyse ended up critically wounded, or even dead? What if she were to die? What if they were all just marching to their deaths? What if this was the beginning of the end for Ala Mhigo?

There was no stop to the countless questions and scenarios that invaded her thoughts. She was falling deeper and deeper into the bottomless sinkhole of her psyche, losing control of all logic...when jerky suddenly appeared in front of her, snapping her out of her brooding. She traced the arm back to her sister who was staring at her blankly.

“Don’t think too hard. Your head might explode.”

“Wouldn’t you enjoy that?” She grumbled, snatching the jerky from Lyse’s grasp.

“Not really. I wouldn’t have anyone to annoy if that were the case,” she innocently smiled at her beloved older sister. Yda, on the other hand, glared daggers at her. She would spare her for now, being that they were about to depart for war.

Taking a bite of her jerky, she noticed the silhouette of her father who appeared to be lost in thought. Knowing him well, she was certain he was doubting Theodoric’s declaration of war. However, being the commander of the campaign, he was also burdened with the responsibility of leading the nation’s army. With the amount of stress he was under, Yda could not help but pity her father, frustrated that she could not share half of his troubles.

“Dad’s really troubled by this war, isn’t he?”

“Aren’t you perceptive?” Yda retorted, earning a scowl from her sister.

“I don’t have to be a scholar to figure that out,” she quipped back. “Besides, it’s not just him...everyone is troubled by it.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

The elder Hext sighed, returning her gaze to her sullen father. “No one wants to go to war, especially him. Everyone is tired of war. We just want to rebuild our nation and live our days in peace, but even Theodoric doesn’t seem to let us have that.”

“Not with this war, he isn’t,” Lyse replied dryly. “I wonder what he’s thinking right now.”

“I’m sure he’s thinking what we’re all thinking.”

“What are you thinking?”

Yda hesitated, contemplating a response. “...what reason do we have to declare war on Sharlayan? Even an invasion on Gridania makes more sense than Sharlayan; not that we should declare war on them once again. But, just...what reason do we have to declare war at all? Should we not focus our power and resources on something more beneficial for the nation? Or at the Garleans knocking at our door?”

Yda expected a response from her sister, but Lyse did not answer immediately. Instead, she seemed to be pondering her words, becoming lost in her own thoughts.

“What about you? What are you thinking?”

“What is there to really think about?” She finally replied after a moment’s respite. “We just gotta go there and win the war, don’t we?”

A simple way to look at it, as expected of Lyse, but her solemn expression indicated her thoughts were far more comprehensive than what she displays. Getting her to talk about it, however, is another story in itself. Regardless, Yda was still going to try.

“You’ve got something else on your mind, don’t you?”

Whatever Lyse was going to say, if she planned on saying anything at all, was interrupted when their father approached them. He smiled softly, concealing his exhaustion as best as he could.

“Are you girls ready?” He asked with a tinge of regret in his voice. Regret that he must put his daughters through something he was trying to protect them from.

Lyse nodded. “We are.”

Yda was about to answer in agreement with her sister, when a thought suddenly came to her. “Father, where’s General Aldynn and General Feare?”

Curtis inhaled sharply. “The King...has requested the two stay back in Ala Mhigo lest the Garleans were to strike.”

“If he fears that the Garleans may strike, then why send us to Sharlayan?” The blonde bursted out angrily. “Shouldn’t we be guarding Ala Mhigo in that case? It doesn’t make sense!”

“No...it doesn’t,” he replied slowly and solemnly. “However, it is the King’s orders. We must do as he commands.”

Signaling the end of the conversation, the General turned around, addressing his soldiers with his loud, booming voice that demanded all attention. “My brothers and sisters! The time has come! Ready your weapons and raise your voices, for it is time to show Sharlayan how we fight! Strike our enemies with fear, and show them the might of Ala Mhigo! Onwards!”

Battle cries erupted from the soldiers while the onlookers clapped and cheered. Griffins and chocobos alike took to the skies, rushing past Curtis as he remained behind, gaze glued to the Royal Palace.

“May the Measure of His Reach grant us victory in battle,” he prayed silently to himself.

“Father?” His oldest daughter asked, grabbing his attention. Both she and Lyse remained behind with him.

“Let us be on our way, girls. War waits for no one.” His steed took off without a second to waste. Yda and Lyse looked at one another before taking flight, shortly following their father.

\---

“How does anyone live in this godforsaken cold? Any longer and I may freeze to death!” The white haired rogue exclaimed, shivering with every word spoken.

“Ishgard hath been locked in eternal winter since the last Calamity, and its people hath grown accustomed to such weather. Tis no wonder they do not flinch at the cold.”

Thancred glares at his comrade, unsurprised he would go into a historical tirade over a rhetorical question. “Is that so? How intriguing, I never knew!”

“Intriguing indeed. Perhaps I can lend thee a tome on Ishgardian history.”

“I jest, Urianger. Of course I know Ishgardian history. What I don’t know is why you’re making us wait in this ridiculous weather. Couldn’t we have waited inside one of the halls and watch for the Ala Mhigans from there, rather than freeze our arses off?”

“And if thou were to have lost sight of thine enemy and let them bypass? Thou would receiveth a scolding from Papalymo and ruin the plan he hath laid in place.”

“Urianger…” Thancred mumbles as he rubs his temples. “Could you be more- wait, do you hear that?”

“Hm? Perhaps it is the wind thou hearest?” The scholar questioned.

“No, no, listen! I hear something...like chocobos in flight.” The two quieted down, concentrating on differentiating the sound of interest from the bitter howling of the Coerthan wind. The sound slowly but surely grew louder, and a black spot soon appeared in the sky, contrasting the white of the clouds.

“Griffins and chocobos…” Urianger noted duly.

“Papalymo, Thancred here,” the Hyur spoke into his linkpearl. “The Ala Mhigans have been spotted flying over Falcon’s Nest. Prepare your troops for ambush.”

“ _Understood. Reconvene as soon as possible._ ”

“Let’s get going,” Thancred expressed to Urianger, signaling their withdrawal.

“I question thee. Would thou have heard the passing griffins had we retreateth into the halls?”

“Urianger…” he sighed, walking away before his irritation got the best of him.

\---

“The Ala Mhigans will be here in five minutes! Prepare for ambush! We cannot allow them to enter the Forelands!” Papalymo ordered his troops, covering them with a white cloak to conceal themselves from their enemy.

Quietly the Sharlayans waited, anticipating their enemy’s arrival. The Lalafell peeked out from under the shroud, carefully watching the skies. Soon enough, the vanguard started to appear, leaving the black mages and summoners to wait for Papalymo’s signal. The forces grew closer and closer, until…

“Now!”

Removing the cloak, the mages immediately began casting their spells, sending a flurry of fire, blizzard, and ruin towards the Ala Mhigans, catching them off guard. A few attacks managed to land, causing panic in their numbers.

“Gods dammit! All units, stay calm and spread out!” Curtis ordered his army, dodging the plethora of attacks heading their way.

“They’re on that cliff over there!” Yda exclaimed, catching sight of their enemy.

“I’ll take care of them!” Her younger sister shouted, piloting her griffin into the foray.

“Lyse, wait!” Yda called after her. She attempted to follow but was intercepted by an oncoming fireball, preventing her from pursuing her sister.

“Lyse! Dammit!” The General griped. He too was avoiding an onslaught of fireballs and icicles.

“I’ll go after her and see if we can disrupt them!” His oldest daughter informed him before maneuvering her way through the spells.

“Tch, you two better not come back injured,” he grumbled to himself. “M’naago! See if your archers can take out any of those damned casters!”

“Aye, Sir!” Unsheathing her bow, she and her troops took aim at the Sharlayans. It wasn’t so much to cause damage as it was to keep them on their toes for their focus was to interrupt the mages from completing their casts. This would give them leeway to advance and attack, potentially turning the tide in their favor.

While the rest of the Ala Mhigan army was locked in aerial battle, Lyse finally arrived at the cliff, dismounting her steed midair. As she was falling, she concentrated her chakra into her fist, slamming it into the ground once she landed. The force of the hit alone broke into the ledge, nearly dividing it into two. Taking advantage of the situation, she quickly subdued the nearby mages, incapacitating them.

“By the Twelve...what strength,” Papalymo gaped at the young monk as he struggled to stand. As he regained his balance, the blonde was already charging at him. At this rate, any spell he would attempt to conjure would be in vain. The best he could do at the moment was brace himself for impact.

“Papalymo!”

Just as she was nearing the Lalafell, Lyse was suddenly thrown to the side. A stone had sent her flying, tumbling against the unforgiving snow and gravel.

“Are you alright?” The voice called out to him.

“Y’shtola! Perfect timing!” Hastily, the thaumaturge grabbed his staff, immediately charging up a fireball. “Careful with this one! Her strength and speed are impeccable!”

“Then we must bombard her and give her no chance to catch her breath!” She replied back to him, casting another stone.

Lyse shook her head as she pushed herself off the ground, processing what had just happened. Upon gazing up, she noticed a red mass racing towards her. She narrowly avoided the attack, only to see a stone now coming her way.

“Fireballs and rocks. Great,” the Ala Mhigan groaned. Rather than dashing out the way once again, Lyse concentrated chakra into her fist, punching through the stone as if it were mere child’s play.

“...what? How can this be?” Flabbergasted, the conjurer’s eyes widened in shock. Never has she seen anyone dismantle her stone so easily as she did.

The blonde changed her target, now aiming for the Miqo'te. In a blink of an eye, she disappeared. Y’shtola panicked and began searching frantically for the woman. As soon as she reappeared, it was already too late. Her palm struck her chest, knocking the wind out of her and shooting her backwards with ungodly force.

“Y’shtola!” Papalymo cried, casting his spell as fast as he could to intercept the enemy.

“Oh no you don’t!” A voice screamed from above. The thaumaturge looked up to see another blonde coming down on him at full force, fist ready to strike. He quickly targeted a nearby mage and manipulated himself to their side, missing her attack by a hair. Her strength was no less than her sister’s as the ground cracked upon impact once again.

Meanwhile, Lyse rushed to the Miqo’te. With her face down against the snow, the monk grabbed her and turned her over, only to freeze in her tracks.

Sun-kissed skin that looked as smooth as silk, red rosy cheeks from the cold that nipped at them, sharp teal eyes that took her breath away, and snowy white hair to match their surroundings. She was absolutely gorgeous. Her eyes softened at the sight of the conjurer, and for a moment it was as if time stood still.

Suddenly, she was, figuratively and literally, knocked back into reality with an unexpected kick to her face. She lost her grip on Y’shtola, and shuffled back.

“Milady, are you alright?”

“I would have appreciated it if you had arrived earlier, Thancred,” Y’shtola coughed, catching her breath.

“Better late than never, no?” Thancred replied before turning his attention to the woman in front of him. “And what’s a fine maiden like you doing on the battlefield? Come, lay down your fists and have a drink with me. My treat,” he winked.

“I do not believe this is the time to be courting women, Thancred! And I do advise to not let your guard down, she is much stronger than she looks!”

“Is that so? Well then, why don’t you come and entertain me, dear?”

“Pervert!” She dashed at him, catching him by surprise. He managed to block her attack, though her punch did knock him back a few malms. Giving him no chance to breathe, she struck again, narrowly missing him. With her legs unguarded, Thancred attempted to do a sweep kick. Noticing this, Lyse angled her body forward and jumped, flipping over the rogue and striking her heel on the ground, damaging the cliff even more. Both Y’shtola and Thancred lost their balance, allowing Lyse to follow up and connect with a tornado kick that Thancred barely blocked. The force alone sent the Hyur back quite a few malms, surprising him with her sheer strength.

On the other hand, Urianger had arrived and assisted Papalymo in fending off Yda, but both had very little success landing a spell on her. Whenever one would cast, she would change her target and zip away, constantly interrupting their cast and forcing them to adjust.

“This is not getting anywhere. We need to fall back!” Papalymo shouted to his troops.

“Not on my watch!” The Ala Mhigan once again changed her target to the Lalafell. Instead of avoiding her this time, he stayed in place, praying that his cast would finish before she made her way to him. It was as if Thaliak heard his prayer for his fireball finally took form. He aimed, not at her, but at the damage imposed on the ground when she ambushed them.

The cliff, already stressed from the blows it had taken, ultimately gave in, collapsing the outer ledge. Yda lost her balance and fell, hastily attempting to get up and run towards the ridge that had not yet crumbled from the impact. However, Urianger saw this and conjured a ruin at the ledge, causing the cliff to break even further.

With nothing to grab onto, Yda was trapped with the falling rocks. She hopped amongst the rubble, trying to inch closer and closer to the cliff, but both mages were constantly casting away at it, preventing her from reaching safety.

When enough damage was done, Papalymo and Urianger retreated, but not before the thaumaturge called out for their two other comrades. “Thancred! Y’shtola! Regroup!”

“Don’t think you’re going to get away!” Lyse yelled, chasing after them until she heard a voice cry after her.

“Lyse!” She followed her ears to the source of the sound. Panic set in when she noticed her sister, trapped with the falling debris.

“Yda!” Disregarding her enemy, she immediately rushed to her aid, jumping off the edge to get to her.

“Inhumane strength and jumping off cliffs? These Ala Mhigans are truly mad,” Thancred gawked.

“Quickly! Destroy the ledge and block the entrance!” Papalymo ordered. His remaining and abled mages casted their spells frantically, damaging the cliffs and felling rocks towards the entryway. Once they made their retreat, stones began flying over the makeshift wall from the other side of the border, effectively preventing their attackers from entering by land and by flight.

As Yda fell, she began to panic and attempted to grab onto anything she could to slow her descent. Suddenly, a hand grasped her arm. “Lyse!”

“Hang on! Indra!” She whistled for her mount. Maneuvering through the debris, her griffin had finally caught up to them, breaking their fall and guiding them away to safety.

“That was too close...are you alright, Yda?”

“Yeah…” she breathed out heavily. “Thanks.”

“Let’s get out of here and regroup with Dad.”

As the sisters faced their debacle, Curtis was overhead avoiding the Sharlayan’s attacks. He would weave in and out of the enemy’s forces to disrupt their casts and give his troops some space. However, stones were now being flung from above, endangering his army even more.

“Tch, everyone, fall back!” He ordered, not wanting his troops to sustain further damage. In the midst of the chaos, he began searching for his daughters. Luckily, his search would not last long as his youngest called out to him.

“Dad!”

“Lyse! Yda! Are you two hurt?”

“We’re alright, but we let the leader get away,” Yda frowned disappointedly.

“As long as you two are fine, that is what matters. Let’s withdraw and reconvene somewhere safer,” their father replied, looking at the stones flying overhead.

With one last look at the damage done, the Ala Mhigans departed, suffering from their first defeat in the war against Sharlayan.


End file.
